a ghost's endeavour
by mynameisvaleria
Summary: They meet out of sheer coincidence, and gravitate towards each other out of sheer loneliness. They are a recipe of disaster brewing, destined for a fall out. At least, that is what Hayley Song tries to convince herself, because she knows she is just a 19 year-old girl and he is the Heart of America and what they have is just a ghost's endeavour- aimless, and ultimately futile.
1. 0

**a ghost's endeavour  
** by mynameisvaleria

 _*I blame Civil War for igniting my fanfiction-writing tendencies from three years ago. But anyway, when I started writing this I was not in a good place, but university had inspired jaded cynicism (in conjunction to kickstarting a serious desire to end up in the writing field), so this is the product and marriage of it._

Warning: Rape is mentioned and I have done my best to reduce the descriptiveness of it without taking away from the story.

* * *

 **0.**

Hayley Song regarded herself as a vigilant and intelligent person, but tonight did not exhibit either of them. Currently, she was walking back from the library, mind clouded by his (usual) flirtatious advances.

 _He has a girlfriend,_ she kept telling herself, _he probably loves her, and he could barely summon any emotion past acceptance for you._

The sudden sound of a twig cracking caught her attention, so she abandoned all thoughts and pulled out her key discreetly, gripping it tight between her knuckles. Every silent noise attracted her gaze— so much that she almost felt paranoid and foolish.

Nonetheless, when she walked by the secluded park, it happened.

(It wasn't supposed to— she'd been at this routine for five months now, and she'd never ran into trouble. Not once.)

"Shh," he warned, twisting her wrist until she dropped the key onto the dirt. "You make noise, this knife goes across your neck, okay?"

There was an overbearing urge rising inside her to just crack a smartass answer, but considering the consequences it meant for her, she decided to just nod. Her heart thumped in her chest, and she was sure he could practically smell the fear on her.

He loosened his grip to tuck away his knife, and she took the opportunity to kick him and run.

"Fuck!" he cried out, clutching his shin, "Fucking bitch!"

Scrambling, she grabbed her phone out of her pocket and dialled the first number on her recent calls. The dial tone rang for three seconds, and it got picked up. She looked at the name and swore, but continued to stay connected.

"Listen, you've got to help me, I'm—"

"I'm kind of in something right now, Hayley, do you mind if I call back some other time?" his voice rang out, annoyance tingeing the edges.

"No, wait, please, I'm kind of—"

"I'm sorry, I really need to go, see you later," he rushed, his Irish accent thickening in irritation and exasperation. A female voice started in the background, and before she could say another word, the line went dead.

"Not if I die tonight, which is highly probable, given the circumstances," she muttered into the phone, the tears collecting at the corners of her eyes. Still running, she struggled to dial another number until something caught on her foot and she tripped, sending the phone several miles away from her reach.

Turning, she came into eye contact with her enraged assaulter. She cursed again, and reached harder for her phone, only for him to step onto her hand, digging his heels in painfully as she gasped in pain. "You'll pay for that, _slut._ "

 _Funny, you can say that within two seconds of meeting me_ _ **and**_ _while_ _you're trying to rape me._

Then he kicked her in the stomach, and she screamed— both to attract attention and to attempt to diffuse some of the pain.

"Come on, scream again, I dare you," he hissed, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her up roughly. She whimpered, scrabbling and clawing at his hand to try and soothe some of the pressure on her scalp. With that, he backhanded her across the cheek, and knelt over her fallen figure. "Damn it, it's always you college girls."

Ten minutes later, when he had gotten her bra off and his dick out, that was when she knew that she was done— that what was to happen would be inevitable and there was nothing more she could do about the situation.

"Please," she spoke up, breathless from the blows but still desperately hoping that if there was one thing she could change, it would be this, "please, at least, use a condom."

She was met with a roll of the eyes, another slap across the face, and he pushed inside her without much consideration of her comfort or birth control. Apart from a vocal "no", her exhausted body gave an involuntary spasm of pain.

Her tears came down like a waterfall, and as she fought back the best she could, her mind flashed back to the cold, blatant rejection of her obvious distressed plead for help. A pang of hurt shot through her heart, travelling down her stomach, in a way hurting her more than her rapist was currently.

Around twenty (or so, she had lost count— and hope) minutes later, a car pulled into the nearby parking lot, and hearing it, she let out a shrill scream.

"Fuck," he panicked, and stood up without even bothering to threaten her, and instead just booked it out of the park.

Sighing, she rolled to her side, letting her body rest and recover, before reaching for her scattered clothes. As she was pulling them on, there was rustling of leaves, and then she came face to face with a scared boy of maybe 20 years or so. When he asked what happened and stated that she needed medical attention, she simply said, "Yes, please, lead the way," and fainted into his arms.

* * *

 _*note that this chapter is inspired by an incident that happened in my university (UBC) and thus the location was originally set in a forest, which would make much more sense, but for obvious plot reasons, it has been changed to a park in NYU_


	2. 0point5

**a ghost's endeavour**

 _by mynameisvaleria_

 **0.5.**

"I haven't seen you here before, did you just move in?"

Hayley jumped, and swore beneath her breath. To this day, six months later, sudden noises still gave her mini heart attacks. She turned to face the owner of the voice, who was wincing in guilt (presumably).

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I didn't mean to startle you."

"No worries," she said quickly, her inner Canadian sending him a quick polite smile. "I'm just looking after this apartment for my friend for a few days while she's on holiday. It's nice to meet you, I'm Hayley."

He took the extended hand and shook firmly once. "Steve. Nice to meet you too."

She let her eyes sweep down his figure, but only involuntarily. He blushed, catching her size up, but otherwise made no inquiry about it.

"You should come up for coffee or tea sometime," he blurted out, not knowing why he did what he did. There was just a vulnerability wrapped within her that made him want to breach the hard exterior— he wanted to fix her, he realised.

Hayley was surprised, but managed to keep the smile on her face. "Sure, why not?"

He nodded, a small smile creeping up his face. "Well, I'll see you around then."

And then she smiled at him and disappeared into the vicinity of her apartment. Leaning down, she patted her former roommate's cat, and put away her groceries. Then, she sat down to read for fifteen minutes before deciding to go for a run to take her mind off the memory of the incident that was threatening to surface.

 **. . .**

She was hovering right outside his door, still hesitating if she wanted to go in with the tray of brownies she had just baked up this morning. She hadn't really planned it, but she woke up with an urge to bake brownies and in her excitement she had made too much with no one to share it with.

Raising a fist, she prepared to knock only to retract it on second thought. She was about to walk away when the door opened anyway, and she was met by a flustered Steve. "Hi," he said sheepishly, his arm reaching to the back of his neck.

"I made some brownies this morning… I just thought maybe you'd want some," she replied, smiling, "They're vegan, so I hope you don't mind."

"Vegan?" he frowned.

She cracked a smile, unsure why he had not heard of the term, but nonetheless finding it endearing. "Well, it just means there are no animal products in it," she explained, "not that I'm vegan— I'm just vegetarian, but the recipe was there and… well."

"Oh," he realized that she was just standing by the door awkwardly, "come in, I'll take those in for you."

Hayley smiled, and stepped in (albeit warily), her eyes sweeping around the room nervously. Her fingers found entertainment in themselves, and she shuffled her weight from left to right constantly.

"Would you prefer coffee or tea?" he asked politely.

"Um, coffee's fine," she replied, eyeing the sofa as if she wanted to sit, but did not dare to.

Steve popped his head out of the kitchen to see her staring intently at the sofa, and chuckled, "You can sit if you want to, Hayley. Don't worry, it's clean."

She blushed profusely, and shook her head, "No, that's not what I meant, it's just… I don't want to intrude. It's something I've always been particularly cautious and sensitive about— just… a part of who I am."

He looked at her for a while, and she shook her head, laughing, "I'm sorry, I don't always tell strangers my life story, you just seem very honest and… as if you deserve the truth."

He smiled, "Well, thanks for being honest for me, Hayley."

And then he retreated to the kitchen again to finish off the coffee he had been brewing.

Hayley smiled down at hands, wondering how she had managed to be attracted to someone who (if was not, at least seemed like it) was actually genuinely nice. For the past nineteen years of her life, she had always been attracted to the wrong type of men (or boys, mostly). This time around, she seemed to have finally stumbled onto an opportunity, and she prayed that her past would not come back to haunt her.

 _Why am I even thinking about this yet? I'm not even sure he would return my affections._

"This is really good."

His sudden compliment surprised her a little bit, and she had to work to keep herself from jumping in her seat. Steve Rogers noticed, but chose to keep quiet about it— he figured that if she wanted him to know, she would tell him eventually.

She looked up to see him holding the coffee out towards her with one hand and eating a piece of brownies with the other. "I forgot to ask you if you wanted the sugar and milk but I figured it was too late."

"Oh, that's disgusting," her lips turned down at the corners as she looked at the milky brown liquid.

Steve blushed, and then reached for the cup, "I'm sorry, I'll make another cup for you if you—"

"No, I'm joking, Steve, sugar and milk are fine," she laughed, "I enjoy being sarcastic and I take it way too far— especially with strangers. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," he replied, dismissing her apology.

Her eyes eventually swept across the room, and found the shield that had been discarded casually at the side of the room. Her eyes widened, but did not comment on it, fearing that a confrontation would lead to an escort to the door, or an invasion of his privacy. Yet, he followed her gaze to it, and realized why she had been strangely quiet for the past minute. "Work, you know," he said, almost shyly, "I forgot to put it away, I'm sorry."

"No," she hurried to defend the gaze, "I was only curious, I didn't mean to pry. I'm sor— God, we both need to stop apologising."

Steve laughed, "But really, the brownies are really good— you should have one yourself."

"I hate to say this because it makes me seem really boring and annoying all at once but… calories. I already had one today," she smiled wryly. Perhaps he would not understand, she thought— most of the times most people did not understand whenever she mentioned it because she weighed only 110 pounds while standing at a height of 5"3.

Hayley sipped at her coffee, and then put down her cup slightly. "You should get an Italian roast. They make great espresso. Besides, it's kind of cheaper and more environmentally friendly, I think. Come up sometime, I can make you coffee."

She didn't know why she said it— she had never been one to trust anyone (so soon), especially after the incident, and although given the fact that he was _the_ Captain America, it was just uncharacteristic of her.

"That would be great," he nodded. "And don't you ever hesitate to call on me if you need anything."

"You mean, whenever you need help with technology for you, right?" she cracked a smile, causing him to chuckle.

"That too."

Hayley eyed the plate of brownies on the table, and reached for one, "You know what, fuck calories— apologies for the language."

Steve laughed.


	3. 1

**a ghost's endeavour**

 _by mynameisvaleria_

 **1.**

Hayley gawked. "Um… hi, Cap."

He flushed, and shrugged at his predicament. "I didn't have time to change. Mind if I borrow something really quick, if you have anything?"

"I do, actually," she chuckled, letting him into the door. Turning, she pulled a shirt and some pants from the depths of her drawer and handed it to him. There was something akin to dismay that surfaced, but nonetheless he took the clothes and headed to the bathroom.

Just as Steve Rogers emerged from the washroom, her stomach clenched painfully. There was something about him (or anyone, except for _him_ ) in those clothes that felt wrong. Someone— anyone— in his clothes made her slightly uncomfortable. Hayley's smile fell and something in her face faltered.

Steve frowned. "Are you all right?"

Her smile went back up. "Don't you mean, are _you_ sure you aren't suffocating in those clothes?"

 _One day, I promise you I will have the body of Captain America's._

The smile dropped again, briefly, and reflexively, just for a moment. He chuckled at her question, and then asked, "Your boyfriend's clothes?"

Despite the memories that floated into her mind, she smiled at his (assumed) concern that she was taken. "Not exactly— more like ex-lover's clothes, but then we were never really together. It's complicated," she dismissed, looking away so she could disguise the downturn of her lips, and the sparkle of an emerging tear.

"I'm sorry."

Hayley turned back, a bitter smile on her face. "Don't be. it's all for the better."

"I'm sure you'll meet someone better."

She laughed, grabbing her bag and keys from the table, "Oh, I don't doubt it."

They stepped out the door in silence, and it took them a while until conversation started again. "I know I never explain anything when my past comes to play," she started, shaking her head, "but it's hard to admit the mistakes I've made, or the things I've let happen. But I promise one day, when I can manage to spit those words out, you will be the first person to hear them."

"Hayley," he sighed, "both of us, we have secrets that we don't mention, and that's okay. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"You told me anyway, because you trust me," she said, "and to be completely honest, I want to trust you but I don't think I can yet— not wholeheartedly."

He got on his motorcycle and she stood by him, watching, hoping he would not turn around so that she would see the betrayed expression on his face. Then he turned around, and said, "Come on."

She got on, smiling, and uttered the words that she regretted once they came out of her lips, because they were the same words that he said, and went back on: "Whatever happens, you mean a lot to me."

He didn't reply, but Hayley knew he had heard it, right before the motor came to life and they sped away to someplace that they would perhaps, someday, call their own.

"This place is beautiful," she breathed, looking over at him and smiling, "Where are we?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I found this some day when I was upset and decided to just drive. I got off the bike and looked down at my reflection in the lake and found peace. No one knows about this place so I made it my own."

"Well," she chuckled, "you're going to have to share because now it's mine too."

Steve watched her settle onto the dirt without concerns for her light coloured shorts as her eyes closed slowly. He wanted to sit down next to her but felt like he should not, so he stayed where he was, watching her chest rise and fall with each intake of air. For a moment, she was younger than she should be, and he wondered why but she made his heart slow down and all he wanted to do was to stay here with her even though her constant cynicism wore him down.

"Come sit with me," she said after what had felt like hours. Her voice was detached and somehow emotionless, but he obliged, not daring to voice his worry about getting her ex-lover's pants dirty.

She shuffled closer so their knees touched. "You make me feel okay, Steve," she whispered. "Like my nightmares don't exist."

"I'm glad," he replied, and hesitated to voice his opinion of her, but did it out of sheer responsibility. "And you make me feel… like I'm not alone."

She opened her eyes, and she aged five years in five seconds, "That's new."

He frowned, not quite understanding, "What?"

"Being wanted— being needed."

And then she closed those dark eyes and turned to the lake again, as silence fell once again.

 **. . .**

"Sometimes I feel like I exist only to drive you places," he grumbled, pulling up outside her favourite bookstore.

She pulled her sunglasses over her eyes and sat down behind him. "Don't be grouchy, Steve, and I'll make you dinner."

"Deal— wait, can you even cook?"

Rolling her eyes, Hayley shot back, "Not without poisoning you."

And Steve laughed as they made their way to their complex.

"I'm moving out and back into my dormitory tomorrow," she brought up casually as she cooked that night. He looked up abruptly from his sketchpad that currently featured Hayley sitting cross-legged at the lake.

"What? Where?"

"NYU," she replied, then looking up to meet his eyes, "I'll still bring you brownies, you know. Nothing has to change."

He turned back to his drawing and smiled, because perhaps her cryptic and casual reassertion was more genuine than her direct confessions. "I know that."

A moment of silence was broken by her declaration that dinner was ready.

"I don't remember ordering anything so healthy," he wrinkled his nose at the bowl handed to him.

She plopped down on the seat next to him on the couch, and dug in. "Well," she shrugged, "I _am_ vegetarian so you should have kind of expected that. Anyway, let's watch something, I'm bored."

He rolled his eyes. "Such as the one about the time-travelling doctor?"

"Well, you're not the only one who's out of his time."

There was silence.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that. I crossed the line," she apologised, looking over in regret, hoping that she did not offend him too much.

Steve shook his head. "No, you're not wrong."

"That does not give me a right to say it," she said quietly. She picked at her food, and then sighed, starting, "It's stupid, but there was this boy that I fell in love last year."

He put down his bowl, and listened, because he knew that perhaps this was all she had needed— just for someone to listen. There was a pause and she started again. "He got my hopes up. I finally realized that I could have feelings for someone and then that was it— at least we had a short five months together and I was happy, though not always. Then he left me feeling inadequate, and too small for my own good."

"Anyway, the rest of what happened will make your blood boil— either way, the truth being said is that I know of being in love, but not love," she finished, and then laughed, "I'm dramatic, I know, but really, I can't curb the way I feel."

He started to scoop the food into his mouth again. "I suppose we all hurt in different ways. Yet it's not to say we're eternally damaged."

"Well, I changed last year and I can't return to who I was. You changed when you were injected with the serum and you can't return to who you were," she paused, "the world has changed, and whether we regret it or not, there is nothing we can do to restore it. We just have to cope— and who's to say it isn't for the better?"


	4. 2

**a ghost's endeavour**

 _by mynameisvaleria_

 _*So I'm going to be going on vacation (finallyyy) for a few days and will not be bringing my computer so this will likely be the last update for at least 4 days or so!_

 **2.**

"You have a skateboard?" he asked, surprised.

Hayley shrugged, and picked it up, inspecting it. "It makes for easy transport on campus," she replied, "I got it before I met him, but I made up my mind to properly learn how to use it after. Anyhow, it's been pretty useful the past year."

He tried to keep his mouth shut about the items she had packed into a small suitcase after that, because everything that he had asked about somehow led her back to this ex-lover who clearly had (who still has) a large presence in her life.

"As I said," he rolled his eyes, "I exist to drive you places."

She laughed. "I'm actually starting to believe that, but then again, it's your pleasure," she teased. "Besides, what else do you have to do in your spare time anyway?"

"Save the world, maybe?"

"I thought that was your work."

"It's also a bit of a hobby."

"I can see that," she replied, and then patted him in the chest before she went to wheel her suitcase into the car that he had borrowed from Stark. Then she yelled back, "You know what? We should go for a spin in this, it's gorgeous!"

"You should thank Stark—he lent it to us."

"Yeah, I should, but I don't want to inflate his ego, you know?" she laughed, and then shook her head, "but really, I should."

Steve helped her load her luggage into the car, and started driving. "He said he wanted to meet you anyway," he said, frowning.

She laughed once again, and fiddled around with the radio to get it to her favourite radio station, then replied, "Well, tell him I'm willing to have lunch with him if he pays for it—because unless you haven't noticed by now I'm poor as shit and won't be able to afford his luxuries."

Steve was quiet for about five minutes as they drove, and Hayley was beginning to think that she had said something wrong. She was about to try and fix it when he broke the silence by saying, "So, where are we going, ma'am?"

Hayley rolled her eyes but let a smile show. "Wherever you're feeling, sir. I figured I've used you enough today," she grinned in a suggestive way, knowing that it would make him uncomfortable, "so, consider it my treat."

He flushed, but gathered himself enough to grumble, "Some treat this is."

 **. . .**

They had gone to a country park and dinner afterwards, and he had just dropped her off at her dorm. Even though it was 9pm, when Steve offered to help her unpack, she did not disagree with him, and let him mostly watch her arrange her room accordingly.

He eyed the room at the far end of the flat. "Do you have someone living with you?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I have two other roommates but they're not back yet, meanwhile I decided to take summer term, being the nerd that I am. Do you mind helping me with the linings?"

He chuckled, and slipped the fitted linen onto the other end of the mattress easily as she struggled with her side. Normally, Steve would have offered to help, but despite the slight guilt that was biting at his gut, he amused himself instead by watching her struggle.

"Aren't you supposed to be a gentleman, Steve?" she rolled her eyes at the raised brow and the tug at the left side of his lip and finally managed to pull through.

"I apologise, I'll keep that in mind next time," he grinned, and replaced the covers onto her bed.

Stepping back, Steve glanced around the room and tried to gauge some more of her history from the surroundings. Hayley Song's room was extremely stylistic but also simplistic, not that it was unexpected. She had hung a dark coloured tapestry on the wall right next to her bed, and the wall above her desk she had littered with photos of friends and family. Alcohol bottles lined the top shelf, and ironically, plastic flowers poked out of some of them. A dying cactus plant stood on her desk, along with her cardboard initials that were painted black. Something drew his attention from the second shelf, and he looked up to see a jar titled "memories 2k12". There were tiny pieces of paper stuffed inside the jar, but there were very few of them and seemed to be scattered on the floor of the glass jar pitifully.

An inexplicable feeing crawled over him and he slowly started to reach for the jar, although knowing that this was some invisible line that he should not cross.

Then suddenly the jar was out of sight and reach.

"That's kind of private," she said, her voice sharper and harsher than she had intended. Seeing the brief hurt cross his blue eyes, she softened her tone and explained, "It's just… there are some things I don't like to talk about and I put them in there."

He shook his head. "I shouldn't have anyway, I don't know why I was so rude."

"Don't worry about it."

There was a slight pause, and Steve spoke up again. "Anyway, I should get going, it's—"

"—quite late, maybe you should stay instead. I mean, I have a mattress and everything, I just don't want you to drive home late at night," she interrupted. "Besides, we said we would finish season 2 of Sherlock and we never did."

He seemed to contemplate for a while and Hayley was about to take back her words until he nodded. "That sounds like a plan."

That night, they ended up watching Sherlock and falling asleep on the sofa together, and the next morning when Hayley woke up, she found herself still fully dressed in her own bed. Steve, she found, had passed out on the sofa himself, and only woke up when she was about to leave for class.

"Hey," he mumbled, just as she was putting on her shoes.

She smiled at him. "Hey, sorry to wake you. I have class right now but you can stay here if you want to. I'll see you later."

And before he could say anything at all, the door slammed shut.


	5. 3

**a ghost's endeavour**

 _by himynameisvaleria_

 _*apologies for the long wait but I'm back in my country so here's an update. I'm working very slowly on the chapters, so I don't know how fast they will be in the future._

 **3.**

"This is nerve-wracking," she admitted while she fidgeted with the hair band that she usually wore on the crook of her wrist.

"It's just Tony," Steve rolled his eyes, but there was an edge to his tone that made it seem like he was slightly nervous for the situation. "There's nothing to worry about and you look fine, because you've asked me ten million times."

She brushed her hair back again, and looked Steve in the eye. "But he's Tony Stark."

"And I'm Captain America."

She grinned. "Are you jealous?"

He rolled his eyes again, but said, "If I must admit it, yes," he joked.

"Oh, Stevie," she exclaimed dramatically and sarcastically, slapping him on the arm and fluttering her eyelashes at him as if to make a point, which only earned her the third eye-roll in the span of ten minutes.

"Am I interrupting something?"

The both of them looked up to see Tony Stark standing there smirking at them, and she blushed a bright shade of red. "Not at all—just playing around. Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Stark, I'm Hayley Song."

Stark grinned and took her hand in a firm handshake. "Tony Stark, but you already know that."

Then he sat down, shifting his chair closer so he was almost touching her, not that she seemed to mind—in fact, Hayley had taken to pretending not to notice, but still subtly responding to the billionaire's flirtations. If Steve had disagreed with the situation, he did not display this on his face.

"Do you want to give me an internship at your company, Mr Stark?"

Stark rolled his eyes. "It's Tony, and you can do whatever you want, no questions asked," he winked at her.

Hayley chuckled. "I don't think that's a good idea— I took commerce for one year and honestly, I hated it. But really, I do need an internship so yes, this meeting might be a ploy to make your acquaintance and then use you to get a job."

Steve seemed to crack a smile, meanwhile Tony Stark simply shrugged his shoulders and said, "Well, I'm not complaining."

As they stood up to leave, Steve couldn't help but notice that her outfit was obviously one designed to impress. Although for the month he had known her, it had been obvious that she was not shy when it came to showing off her lean and vaguely athletic body, today was one of the days that she really played up the sex appeal. Currently, she was wearing a top that showed off her (admittedly not impressive) cleavage, and a short black skirt that had two tiny slits up the side.

Uncomfortably, he realised that as much as he was admiring her body, he was also slightly irritated by the way that Stark was looking at her—and ultimately, how she was falling for it. Therefore, when he had the opportunity, he chose to take a mission while the other two talked about making plans to the Avengers' Tower.

"I'll see you soon, then?" she asked, smiling over at him still with Stark's arm over her shoulder.

Steve nodded curtly. "I'll call you when I'm done."

"If you can figure out how to get past the dial tone," Stark snorted, and when Hayley laughed, Steve felt just a little bit betrayed.

 **. . .**

They had just finished a tour at the Avenger's Tower, and Tony was pouring them both drinks.

"How'd you meet Capsicle?" he asked causally, leaning across the counter, watching her take a swig from her glass of tequila.

She shrugged. "He's my former roommate's neighbour— I was looking after her flat and cat for her," she answered, before she took another gulp. "I don't remember how long it's been since I've had this much alcohol coursing through my veins."

"Your vocabulary is exquisite."

Hayley grinned, and leaned towards him. "Just my vocabulary?"

"Among other things."

"Well," she leaned back into her own seat, her confidence building up as she became progressively less sober and self-aware, "Really can't say the same for you, Mr Stark."

Tony raised his eyebrows, amused. "Really, Song? Is that what you think, hm?"

Hayley stood up, and grabbed his shirt to pull him closer. "Convince me otherwise," she whispered, and he wasted no time in closing in the remaining distance and pushing his lips against hers, mixing their choice of alcohol together in an embrace.

As she kissed him, tears stung at the edge of her eyes. There was familiarity in the way he moved, and she had noticed it—she had sought after it and she had revelled in it. Stark pushed her towards the elevator. "Is this okay with Cap?" he had pulled away to say, even though his hands were slipping underneath her shirt.

"I don't think that's really stopping you and we're just friends anyway," she replied, before she grabbed his crotch, causing him to groan.

"I'm sold," he groaned, and then punched at the elevator button, trying to get it to go faster. She grinned, and started to kiss his neck, to which he responded with, "God, Hayley Song, what _are_ you?"

The door closed behind them, and after he stripped his shirt off, she giggled, kneeled down and started to undo his belt. Smirking up at him, she said, "Someone who's about to make you very, very happy."

 _*um, I rarely write end notes but, what the fuck are you doing, Hayley?_


	6. 4

**a ghost's endeavour**

 _by himynameisvaleria_

 _*the chapter in which shit kind of goes down._

 **4.**

"Where did you learn to fuck like that?" he asked, still breathless when he collapsed on the bed next to her.

She chuckled, and shrugged, half high on the feeling of him on her, "University."

He shook his head. "I just slept with a nineteen year old."

"Well, at least you can say that as an accomplishment. I just fucked a forty-year old man—actually, I can't say anything, I slept with Tony Stark. I fucked Iron Man—fuck."

He rolled on his side to look at her. "Really," he scrutinised her, "who _are_ you? And how did you meet Rogers?"

Hayley leaned back, arms tucked behind her head comfortably as she looked at the ceiling. "I'm just a Literature major who bumped into Steve Rogers in the hallway without realising he was Cap," and then she turned back to him, and continued, "who am I? I was really hoping someone else would tell me."

"Why did you sleep with me? You clearly have no feelings for me," he shook his head, and then added quickly, "not that I do."

She laughed. "Do you think there's much of a difference between men and women, Stark? You're attractive and I haven't had sex in a while, that's it."

He waited.

Hayley was silent, knowing that he was clearly waiting for further explanation.

He finally spoke up. "Bullshit, Hayley Song."

Another minute of silence.

"Because you're an asshole and you remind me of my ex, Stark, it doesn't get any more honest than that."

"Rebound? I'm a rebound?" he seemed irritated, but in a playful, non-serious way. "No way. Kid, do you know who I am? I'm Tony Stark, playboy, billionaire, genius—"

"Philanthropist, yeah, I've heard that come out from Steve—sarcastically—many times," she grinned. "But hey, that's the cold, hard truth, old man, you're rebound guy number two."

His eyes further widened, and sat up straddling her, "You've got to be kidding me. Number two?"

Hayley shrugged, still grinning, "Sorry."

"Ouch, my ego just took a hit," he commented, before kissing her lightly again, and getting up.

"Mind if I stay here tonight? I'll clear out tomorrow morning," she called out as he grabbed his clothes and started to leave.

"No worries, kid, just… be gentle with Steve, okay?" he turned around, his eyes a different shade of serious. "He doesn't need his heart broken."

The smile faded off her face. "He means a lot to me, Tony. I'm not going to hurt him—not if I can help it," she said firmly, internally wincing at the way she was speaking, acknowledging that her words were echoing what had once been a promise to herself.

"Good. Make sure he knows that."

And then just as he was about to close the door, he turned back again.

"Oh, one more thing. We're good, right? Like, we can still have conversations and grab lunch without awkward silences?"

Hayley chuckled, "Oh, that's one of my favourite pastimes—pretending nothing happened."

And then she turned on her side and fell into a content sleep.

"Miss Song, I have been told to inform you of Mr Roger's presence in the Tower."

Hayley was brushing her teeth when the voice rang out. She jumped, nearly swallowed the bubbling toothpaste, and recovered enough to reply, "Who the fuck?"

"My name is Jarvis, I am Mr Stark's AI."

"Shit," she spit out the toothpaste and washed her face quickly, "Okay, would you tell him that he's a bastard and he better pray that there are no cameras installed in the room or the bathroom?"

"Will do, Miss Song."

Sighing, she left her face bare and went on to slip into her clothes from yesterday, before asking the AI to guide her out of the building with the intention of not crossing paths with the supersoldier. And then when finally she had made it out of the building, she breathed a sigh of relief and headed back to her dorm.

 **. . .**

The dial tone had been going on for almost a minute and she was getting borderline irritated. Steve had been ignoring her calls for two days, and she knew that it could be a long mission, but her brain was telling her that she had fucked up by sleeping with Tony Stark.

Anyhow, whether she had slept with Tony Stark gave Steve Rogers no right to cold shoulder her without so much as an explanation, so she decided to get mad at him when (if) he eventually called back.

In the middle of doing research, her phone rang and the Doctor Who theme song started playing.

"Hello," she barked sullenly.

"Hey, kiddo, Steve's phone keeps ringing and he's not answering—the guy does not know that silent mode exists. Anyway, is it you?"

Hayley sighed. "Yeah, but it's all right because I'm now pissed off at him too."

Stark laughed. "Okay, well, Happy is coming to pick you up, we're going to fix it."

Her eyebrows rose up to her forehead and she wished that he could see her incredulity right now. "Are you serious? Stark, we're friends, I'm allowed to sleep with whoever I want and he isn't supposed to get angry about it. This is ridiculous."

"Okay, so go yell at him," he said casually, "but you need to see each other if you still care about him."

"Hey, that's not fair if you put it like that," she mumbled.

"Well, too bad, Song, but you know how stubborn he is."

"Fine, Stark, but you're buying me dinner," she grumbled.

He laughed, "I can even fuck you afterwards if you want."

"Yeah, I don't think that's going to work very well in light of what I'm trying to do, aka, suck up to Steve," she paused, "Or like, actually suck Steve, but I'm trying to keep things mostly platonic between us."

Stark laughed. "Goodbye, Song, see you soon."


	7. 5

**a ghost's endeavour**

 _by himynameisvaleria_

 _*terribly sorry for the long wait, I fell off the track a little!_

 **5.**

"Mr Rogers is in the dining area, Miss Song."

"Thanks," she replied curtly, before putting on her best bitch face (which, to be very honest, was not hard to do) and heading to where the dining hall was (she remembered, because that was where she and Stark and started the hookup).

Steve was lounging on the sofa with a glass of orange juice, and barely looked up to acknowledge her existence—in fact, he looked up without noticing that it was her. Rolling her eyes, she barked, "Jarvis, turn the fucking TV off."

Her voice, as though flicking a switch within him, caused him to jump up in surprise. He looked at Hayley, whose lips were turned down at the corners, a threatening glare in her eyes, and felt just a tinge of guilt eating at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, seeing your failure to answer my phone calls, I took it upon myself to correct the lack of communication," she replied haughtily.

He crossed his arm in front of his chest, and she couldn't help but be drawn towards the area. "I was busy."

"I called an hour ago and you're currently halfway through the twelfth episode of Suits, so I'm pretty sure you weren't busy. And if watching Suits is actually above me on your priority list, then I apologise and I will leave now."

"To where? Stark's bedroom?" he asked, eyebrows pushed together in a frown.

Hayley sighed. "I'm not even going to ask you how you know. The truth is this is who I am, Steve. I've always been this way. You mean a lot to me, but I'm not ready for this."

"Because of the ex-lover."

"More than that. I don't trust people, but most of all I don't trust myself. I don't think I can give you what you need."

"I respect that you're not ready, but whether you are what I need is not your decision to make," he said, voice softer now.

She chuckled bitterly. "I know. That's what I had in mind when I chose to jump into it and that's how I learned that playing with fire is not good decision."

"Did you regret?" he asked pointedly.

Hayley, knowing she had lost, shook her head. "Even so, it doesn't change my readiness. I cannot, Steve. Tony was just there and he was attractive—hell, he's everything I'm attracted to and I know we will only be… sedentary. I can depend on him to still be able to look me in the eye afterwards and be there for each other in whichever way we need."

There was a pause, and he obviously was not convinced, so she continued, "But afterwards, I wouldn't want to leave it like that because I know you wouldn't be satisfied and I couldn't bear it as well. And damn it, we both know you deserve much better, Steve."

"We don't always get what we deserve."

A pang of hurt shot up her chest, and she shivered. That was exactly what she had told _him_.

With her blows significantly weakened, she could only sigh and apologise. "I can't get into something that's not fair to either of us, Steve. Damn, you're America's sweetheart—I'm not even a part of it."

"Rogers, give her time."

They turned to the new voice. Stark stood leaning on the door frame, and Steve had on a look of pure irritation and just a little of contempt. "For God's sake, stay out of this, Stark," she groaned, "You're going to make it worse."

He rolled his eyes. "You two are bickering like a pair of twelve year-old children. Someone has to break it up." 

"And giving out empty promises to Steve helps? I might never get over the bastard—or whatever life put me through, so why promise that I will?" she almost yelled. The anger was rising off of her like steam, not only because of the pressure to succeed, but because of how horribly hopeless she was feeling. The tears were coming down and this time there was no stopping them.

"Fuck," Stark groaned at the sight of tears, but pushed on. "You're nineteen, kid. You think you'll never get through it? Welcome to reality. Sometimes you don't have a choice. We're all different degrees of fucked up here—that's why we in this building right now."

There was a pause. She couldn't argue with that. Stark was spot on. "I'm sorry. And I don't want to stop seeing you but that's selfish so if you think the best way to go about it is to stop seeing each other—"

" _No_."

Steve's voice was surprisingly strong, and the other two looked up surprisingly.

"That's not necessary," he said, eyes still hard, "But for the meantime, Stark, stay away."

Stark's eyebrows rose to the top of his forehead as the blonde man walked away from them. He stared at Hayley for a while, and then walked up to her. "He's in pretty deep—and I have no idea how that escalated in the span of a month, but if I were you I'd either give him a chance or leave."

Hayley sighed—for the fifth time in fifteen minutes. "I know. But what can I do? I'm a selfish girl."

"Likewise, Hayley Song," he declared, and then he patted her on the shoulder and walked away, leaving her to sit down silently for a moment, letting the gravity of the situation sink in.

"Damn, I still have that paper to write," she mumbled, and shook her head.

 **xxx**

The sofa vibrated, and Hayley ignored it.

Her tapping got louder as she bit on her lower lip, trying to perfect her introductory paragraph, which always seemed to be one word away from satisfaction. The vibration stopped for a moment and then started again. Steve shifted underneath her weight, and glanced at the phone cautiously. "Your phone's ringing."

She scoffed, chuckling, "Yeah, I noticed, Steve. I'm busy—I don't have time to answer."

"What if it's important?" he asked, glancing yet again at the caller.

She chuckled again. "Yeahhh, it's not."

A small smile appeared on Steve's face. "You can say that again."

She shushed him, and then read aloud her paragraph one last time before deciding that she was done with it. It would have to do for tonight—she did not have either the patience of the mental capability to polish it any further.

With a loud snap, she closed her laptop and put it away on the table, sighing. "That was absolute shite—but how's the movie?" she asked, lowering herself so that she was now lying on his lap. She had forgotten, completely, that this could cause a certain amount of discomfort and longing for Steve.

In fact, she had only realised this after he had slung an arm over her, wrapping around her shoulder from the front. Yet, she did not pull away, maybe due to selfishness, or just because it made her feel warm inside (which was really the same thing).

Her phone vibrated from underneath her back, and Steve fished it out for her, laughing. "I think you should answer it, Hayes."

Hayley's eyes showed a hint of surprise at the new nickname, but otherwise just took the phone and answered without even checking the caller ID. "What, Stark?"

Steve looked a little smug as he held on just a little tighter to her, and Hayley couldn't help but smile at the possessiveness that he was showing. "Hey," Tony drawled, "is that really the way to treat someone who granted you—"

"Go fuck yourself, Stark," she interrupted before he could continue in fear of Steve overhearing. "What do you want, and make it quick because we're in the middle of a movie—well, Steve is, I'm just keeping him company."

She practically heard his eyebrows rise up his forehead. "I was just wondering if you wanted to come over but evidently not."

"Nah, I'm good, Tony," she laughed, glancing at Steve, who seemed a little conflicted between feeling satisfied and annoyed, "if there's nothing else, I'm going to go now."

Without waiting for him to answer, she cut the line, turning her phone on silent and throwing it over the far side of the sofa. Steve was staring at the television, burning hypothetical holes into the screen. "So, did Stark—"

"The old man was horny," she answered, rolling her eyes.

Steve chuckled uncomfortably, but changed the subject (substantially) to steer away from the potential awkwardness that threatened to invade. "If he's old, what am I?"

"Ancient," she grinned, turning from the television to look up at him, "Just the way I like 'em."

She winked, and Steve turned away to blush.


	8. 6

**a ghost's endeavour**

 _by himynameisvaleria_

 _*I have no idea how long I can keep this running for, and I'm horrible at updating. I'm so sorry!_

 **6.**

"Who _are_ you?"

She fell from the plank that she was currently holding, and looked towards the source of the voice. Cursing, Hayley realised that Steve had forgotten to close the door and as a result, someone had caught a glimpse of her from the hallway, and was standing with his arms crossed over his chest demandingly at the door.

"I'm um… I'm Hayley," she offered, not sounding too sure of herself in the face of a leather-clad Avenger (presumably). Cringing, she realised that her name did not tell him much, and was about to further explain when he stepped into the room.

She stood up, and took a step back, bumping into the nightstand behind her. "Okay, Hayley, what are you doing here?" he demanded again.

"She's a friend of Captain Rogers, Mr Barton, and does not pose a threat to the tower, or the inhabitants of it," Jarvis informed.

Deciding that the figure was Hawkeye, she gulped, and opened her mouth to explain again, "I was with Steve and he stepped out for a brief mission. Since I promised to bake him something later, I thought I would stay and… well, wait."

Though the suspiciousness in his eyes did not die down, he nodded curtly, and left the room promptly without another word.

She let out a breath of relief as he left—until Tony replaced him as an unwelcome stranger in Steve's room. "Hey, kid."

"No, I don't want to fuck, Tony, thanks."

He raised his eyebrows, and dragged a chair to sit opposite to Hayley, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed. He stared at her until she put away her laptop to look at him. "Don't treat me like a child, Tony. I feel like I'm about to get a lecture from you."

Tony rolled his eyes. "What do you want from Steve? Don't lie, because I will hold you responsible, and you might not enjoy the consequences of it."

Hayley's heart lurched in her chest. "Why have you been so nice to me in the past? You didn't have to be."

"I have a soft spot for Steve—I didn't want to scare you off. He's my friend," he answered honestly.

She swallowed. "I have feelings for him. I just don't know how much—I'm just not sure if it's enough. I know he deserves more and it would hurt less to just refrain from a relationship in case it doesn't end well. It probably won't end well. I'm still in a bad place right now."

Tony was about to speak, and then his phone rang. Taking a brief look at his screen, he pulled out a holograph, and to Hayley's horror, she saw that he had her file out. She scrambled to stand up and gain control of Tony's device only for him to push her away. In hysteria, she managed to trip over the corner of the bed, and fall on her knees. "That's a fucking invasion of privacy, Stark, don't you fucking read—"

"Hm, a few publications of creative pieces… not bad, you can write, kid. Competition wins—don't fight this, it'll be easier, trust me," he chuckled, and continued reading out loud.

"Please, Tony, this is really private, don't—"

"A news article on you? Shit, I didn't know you were this big of a dea—"

And then he stopped short, and Hayley sighed, turning away, knowing that he had reached the one part of her life that she had tried so desperately hard to run away from. He read in silence for a few more minutes, and then proclaimed, "Shit, kid."

"I told you not to go into it," she whispered, voice shaking. She had one hand covering her face, and Stark didn't know whether she was crying or simply hiding her embarrassment, but he had a pretty good guess that it was a combination of both.

Quickly, he minimised the file, and pushed his chair backwards so he could get on the floor with her. Wincing, he put a hand on her shoulder. Hayley shrugged his hand off of her. "Don't try to comfort me, Stark. I had it under my belt and you brought it up and I'm not sure you are what I want to see right now."

"You have to rip off the band-aid sometimes."

"The wound is still not healed, Stark, you rip it off, you rip the skin off and blood comes gushing out. I'm not sure if you understand, but you haven't had someone force themselves on you, have you?" she looked up, strangely tear free.

He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off, "What about calling him on the phone seconds before it happened, hoping he would come and save you. Then he rejects your urgency in favour of the girlfriend that you thought you helped him get over because goddamn it, you were just a rebound—yet you sit here judging me for not being able to move on? Fuck, you're kind of an asshole, but I bet you already know that, didn't you?"

Moments after she told him (most of) the whole story, she sat there on the floor, hoping she could somehow take it all back. Steve, she felt better with leaving the truth with, but Tony Stark was a wildcard—she could never expect him to not blurt it out in a heat wave of anger or drunken foolishness.

And then, she realised that maybe, just maybe, she was ready to trust Steve yet.

(But does trusting him mean that she was comfortable with being with him?)

"Hayley, I'm sorry. But I'm not sorry for bringing this up. You need an outlet—you can't keep it in forever. I didn't talk about the Battle of New York and it almost ripped me apart. Look, I know it hurts, but damn it, it's not Steve's fault. Don't use him like he used you."

That hit her. This had always been something that was at the edge of her mind, but it never fully hit her until now. Perhaps it had always been overshadowed by the need for warmth and companionship.

"Well, this is my cue to leave," he said, getting up promptly as footsteps neared.

As Tony left, he passed by Steve Rogers, who gave him a dirty, suspicious look. Walking into the room, he was met with a side of Hayley Song that he had never seen before. It took him only one look at her crying on the floor before he was at her side.


	9. 7

**a ghost's endeavour  
** by mynameisvaleria

 _*Wow, has it been almost a year? I found new ways to give this a little kickstart and all that's missing is chapter nine and an epilogue! This may or may not get a sequel or idk yet. But yes, it is Christmas so expect quicker updates._

 **7.**

"Hawkeye found me in your room."

"That's not why you're crying."

Steve was currently grilling a recovered Hayley. When he had found her on the floor, he had hoisted her back onto the bed and left only to come back with a box of tissues, and the promise to beat "that sorry son-of-a-bitch (sorry, Maria)" up afterwards. She cracked a small smile, but could not stop most of the tears that were coming from her eyes in a waterfall.

She stayed silent for a while, just looked at him, trying to find that certain something in his eyes that would convince her to _just love him._

"It's something Stark said, wasn't it?"

Five more seconds of silence.

"He dug up my profile, and he found things that… I didn't want found. It fucked with me a little," she admitted, shaking her head, "I overreacted, and it's kind of his fault but… not really."

"You need to tell me things, Hayley," he said, obviously frustrated, "It's the only way I can help you."

Hayley shook her head. "I'm _not_ ready, Steve, and Stark knew that. _Please, understand._ You know what it's like for people to drag your history out for the world to see—that's happened to me before and I don't want it to happen again."

"I think you still don't trust me. Even after I proved more so than Stark. Even though you know things about me that no one does," he said, slightly hurt, which Hayley had to admit, was very understandable. "What is it going to take for you to finally trust me, Hayes?"

Hayley played with her fingers. "Don't say it like that, because when you say it like that…"

"Stark knows, don't you think I deserve to know it too? Or do you think I'm going to leave?"

"Do you think I wanted to tell Stark?" she demanded, furiously wiping the tears from her eyes. "Stop _pressuring_ me, Steve. I don't want to tell you and I _won't_ tell you if I'm not ready. That's final."

Steve stood up, obviously offended and disappointed, said, "Maybe I should reconsider our relationship if I mean this little to you, Romana. We make sacrifices for the ones we care about."

Then he walked away, leaving her on his bed, in shock and betrayal and acceptance and just a tiny hint of respect for the way he walked out on her (just like she should have walked out on _him_ ). She didn't know who was wrong: her for refusing to admit her past, or him for pressuring her. In the end, she supposed it hadn't mattered—whether she told him of the truth or refused to tell him both will lead to his back growing smaller with the increasing distance he put between them.

Hayley realised, once more, that she had started to care too much. About Steve, about what was right, and… about Steve.

 **xxx**

It had been a week, Hayley realised, since Steve had stormed out on her and she had walked out of the Avengers Tower with her dignity severely damaged. She was feverishly trying to finish the paper that she had started a week earlier, but no matter how much she tried to strengthen them, her arguments seemed to fall flat.

Pulling out her newly bought iPhone, she saw that Stark had called her at least five times this morning, but despite being as lonely as she was, she had no desire to fraternise with the one whom had brought the shitstorm on her (them).

Her phone rang again.

She glanced beside her and the screen lit up as Steve's name illuminated it. She hesitated for more than a few moments, but ultimately decided against her pride, and picked it up. Yet, despite that, she employed an irritated tone, "What?"

"He's mad at you."

She groaned, not believing that she had fallen for this kind of trickery. "I'm not fucking with you, Stark, and I'm going to hang up right now."

"No! No, wait, don't hang up! I'm sorry, okay? Just… Steve's fucked up right now. You have no idea."

"Maybe that's how it should be. The quicker he gets over me, the better, the easier it is," she answered dryly. "I don't know what you expect me to do about it. The only thing I can do right now is walk away or tell him the truth. I am not telling him the truth."

Stark groaned. "But can you watch him throw himself in danger like this? He's making the most reckless choices on missions, Song. Maybe he doesn't act like he's trashed, but I know he's trashed, and you did it to him."

Guilt wracked her body.

" _Stark_ ," she exclaimed, and then sighed. "I know. Do you think I don't know? But what can I say to him, just what can I say? I just have no idea—I've always been the one who loved less."

"Start by apologising."

"I've done that about ten thousand times since I've met him."

"You're hopeless," Stark deadpanned. For once, Hayley felt terrible at the fact that she was consistently shooting Stark down. For once, Hayley felt like perhaps there really was no hope for her at all, if even Tony Stark thought so.

Hayley laughed bitterly. "So I've heard."


End file.
